Some Like It Hot
by Zeplerfer
Summary: Alfred and Arthur steam up the YMCA's sauna. USUK.


**Summary**: Alfred and Arthur steam up the YMCA's sauna. USUK.

**Rating**: M for hot pick-up lines, swearing, and smexytimes. PWP.

* * *

Alfred stepped into the steamy sauna with only a skimpy towel wrapped around his waist. His glasses promptly fogged over. Given his handsome physique, he would have been willing to skip the towel, but for some reason the fuddy-duddies who ran the YMCA had a rule against nudity. Since he didn't want his membership revoked, he followed the rule... at least in the public hallways.

As his glasses began to unfog, Alfred surveyed the room and spotted another man perched on the far wooden bench. From what he could tell, the other man was only a few years older than him and he had exactly the sort of trim frame that Alfred found most attractive, especially with his smooth waxed chest and gorgeous legs that stretched for miles. The man's eyes trailed up and down Alfred's torso, filling Alfred with a thrill of excitement. He took his time returning the favor before sitting on the wooden bench and giving the other man a wide grin. The sauna was enjoyable on its own, but it was even better with a bit of flirting.

Alfred stretched his arms behind his head as he leaned against the wall, subtly flexing his arms in a way that he knew showed off his muscles. "Man, I love this place after a _long_, _hard_ workout," he said amiably. When that didn't elicit an obvious reaction, he decided to tip his toes in with a light question. "So do you come often or are you a new member?"

"Neither, actually," the other man replied with a crisp English accent, he eyed Alfred knowingly, like he could tell exactly what the American wanted and was willing to play along. The Y did have a reputation as a nice cruising spot. "I'm staying in one of the hostel rooms for the night and thought this seemed like a lovely way to unwind," the stranger explained. "The name's Arthur, by the way."

"Arthur." Alfred rolled the name across his tongue and decided that he liked the sound. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alfred. Just let me know if I'm bothering you, 'cause I like to talk a lot and some people say it's annoying."

"Oh, is there a safe-word I should use if I want you to stop?" Arthur asked, crossing his legs in a way that nearly revealed what was hidden underneath his towel.

"How about 'eyebrows'?" Alfred suggested without much thought.

The other man narrowed his eyes. "Yes, that _would_ be a good safe word, because if you mention them again it will be the end of the evening."

"Whoa, sorry," Alfred raised his palms in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. I think they look nice. Very handsome and distinguished," he added truthfully. The dark, bushy eyebrows might have looked ridiculous on other faces, but they gave Arthur a distinctive look that enhanced his already attractive features. Alfred smiled winningly and let his gaze drop down to Arthur's towel. From what he could see, he could tell that his interest in Arthur wasn't the only thing rising in the room. Alfred licked his lips and tried to think of something to keep up the banter. Between the incredible warmth and the sexy flirtation, his brain was already starting to short-circuit as his blood flowed south.

The Brit nodded, apparently mollified by the earnest compliments. "All right then. Well, keep up with the flirting, and it might get you somewhere."

With that encouragement, Alfred smirked and decided to try his raunchier pick-up lines. "Mmm, has anyone ever told you that you look good enough to eat? 'Cause I'd like to make a burger out of you by sticking my meat between your buns."

"Really?" the Englishman said with an expression of distaste. "I'm not fast food. I expect you to savor the taste."

"Sorry, when I'm around you I can't think straight."

"You'd better not," Arthur retorted, his eyes sparkling merrily. He glanced down at Alfred's towel. "Were you in the Scouts?" he asked with mock innocence.

"Ha! I wasn't really Boy Scout material, you know."

"Too bad. It looks like you're doing a lovely job of pitching a tent."

Alfred resisted the urge to cover his erection. "I had some help," he replied modestly. As the flirting heated up, Alfred began to feel a connection building beyond pure lust. Arthur was handsome, clever, and had a great sense of humor. He was the sort of guy you could take on dates. Alfred had thought about cruising the Y saunas a few times before, but he had never met anyone ripe for a casual, anonymous, one-time fling. Then again, he had never met anyone quite like Arthur. It was the first time he wondered if he should ask for a phone number too. Feeling surprisingly sappy, Alfred decided to change the tone of his standard pick-up lines. "It's a good thing same-sex marriage is legal here," he said with a cheerful grin, "I'm already planning our wedding."

"Ah, it is legal? That's good," Arthur noted, fanning himself as sweat poured down his forehead and darkened the color of his sandy blond hair. "Does it seem really hot in here to you?" he asked.

"I think that's just you," Alfred grinned as he gazed at Arthur through half-lidded eyes. The sauna _was_ hot, but nowhere near as hot as the other man.

"Hmm." Arthur stood up and walked to the door. For a second, Alfred was scared that the other man planned to leave, but instead Arthur flipped the lock. He glanced over his shoulder and gave Alfred a coy look. "So hot in here, I'd best take off my clothes," he said, quoting the wisdom of Nelly. And then he dropped the towel, providing Alfred with a marvelous view of a perfectly toned butt. It looked pink and soft and beautiful. Alfred wanted to rub his hands all over it and caress those tender cheeks. He wolf-whistled and rubbed his hands in anticipation. Arthur smirked over his shoulder and, somehow keeping his front from view, managed to pour a cup of water over the coals, creating a new cloud of steam in the room and increasing the temperature by a few degrees.

The steam also blocked Alfred's view, drawing a disappointed moan from his throat. "Hey, no fair!" he complained.

"Patience," Arthur purred as he stepped through the steam and into the clear air right in front of Alfred. His cock stood completely erect and ready to go, a bit of precum already dripping from the tip. He looked gorgeous.

"Fuck patience." Alfred replied as he tossed off his own towel and reclined on the wooden bench, enjoying the coarse feeling of the wood against his bare back. He wiggled his hips into place and grinned at Arthur. Neither of them had brought lube or a condom, but they still had other options. "Want to frot?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Arthur said, like he was a gentleman accepting a dance at a ball instead of a naked foreigner preparing to rub one out with a complete stranger in a semi-public space. He crawled onto the wooden bench and straddled Alfred about his nice muscular hips, letting their cocks touch and rub together in mutual stimulation. Arthur moaned as he felt Alfred's hands caress his buttocks, groping with abandon.

"They're perfect," Alfred murmured in a low, husky voice, happily squeezing the pert buns. He moved his hands to Arthur's cock as the other man rocked back and forth. The friction was electrifying. Arthur picked up the pace while Alfred wrapped his broad hands around the sliding cocks and began to jerk them both. The Englishman cried out, increasing his speed and throwing back his head as he moaned in pleasure.

Aroused by the throaty, sexy sound, Alfred rocked his hips upward. The heat in the room and the fire in his veins made it difficult to breath or focus on anything other than rubbing them both off. He could feel Arthur's rocking motion become ragged and heard as the other man's breath grow fast and uneven. Both men gasped and panted, their faces red and sweating from the heat. Alfred moaned in need and he could tell from his dimming vision that he was approaching the edge. He wanted it to last longer, as long as possible, but he also craved release and the euphoria it brought throughout his body.

With a sharp jerk, Alfred came first into his own hand and his body shuddered with pleasure. Barely managing to think at all in his haze of satiated ecstasy, he focused on continuing to pump Arthur's hard cock until he felt the other man jolt, his cum mixing with Alfred's in the American's hand.

"Uhh..." Arthur swayed to the side as the heat, intense activity, and blood flow to his cock proved too much for his body to handle.

"Fuck!" Alfred swore, trying to catch Arthur as the other man fainted. But he was holding only one body part, and he _really_ didn't think Arthur would appreciate it if he tried to keep him on the bench by pulling on his cock. Too late to stop the fall, he let go of the other man's member and winced as he heard Arthur thud against the wooden floor.

Alfred quickly rolled off the bench, careful not to land on the unconscious young man. "Shit, please be okay, please be okay," he repeated in a fervent prayer as he covered Arthur's groin with the nearby towel and then scooped the man into his arms, grunting with effort as he lifted him off the floor. Alfred nearly broke down the door before he remembered that it was still locked, and once outside the sauna room set a new speed record for racing to the showers.

* * *

"Artie? Artie?"

The voice echoed like it was coming from a tunnel. Arthur blinked and woke up to the spray of cold water on his face. No, it was just a shower. His back and legs were leaning against cool tiles, and he rubbed the droplets from his eyes. Alfred swam in front of his vision, giving Arthur a worried look from behind water-speckled glasses.

"What's your name? What's your favorite color? What's the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?" the American asked a little desperately.

Arthur rubbed the bruise on his shoulder. His confusion was swept away by memories as he recalled what had happened in the sauna up until the point that the world dimmed and everything went black. "My name's Arthur—not Artie—my favorite color is green, and do you mean an African swallow or a European swallow?" he replied.

Alfred's face split into a relieved grin. "Whew. Thank god you're all right. Maybe pud wrestling in the sauna wasn't the best idea."

"That may have contributed," Arthur admitted as he wiped the damp fringe out of his eyes. "But it was _probably_ the twenty minutes I spent in there before you arrived that did me in," he explained, shaking his head ruefully as he remembered how the nice lady at the front desk had warned him against overheating in the sauna. He had _meant_ to leave at the recommended time, but he found himself pleasantly distracted by the handsome American and lost track of the time.

Arthur let the water cool him down and patiently waited for Alfred to fetch a bottle of water and two full-size towels. When Alfred returned, Arthur slowly climbed to his feet and turned off the shower. Accepting the bottle and towel, he took a few refreshing sips and then dried himself, feeling fully recovered.

As they both got dressed in the locker room, Arthur smiled to himself as he watched the American put on a little show when no one was looking, wiggling into his white cotton shirt and blue jeans like he was performing a strip tease in reverse. Still smiling, Arthur pulled a business card out of his bag and carefully wrote his mobile number and email address on the back. He handed the card to the ecstatic American.

* * *

Four years later, at their wedding reception, Arthur and Alfred cheerfully lied to everyone who asked how they met.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

It's cold outside and I felt like some steamy smut. Hopefully this doesn't earn me a lump of coal from Santa!

Frottage ("frot" for short) is a way to describe this type of mutual rubbing. I think if fanfic was slightly more accurate, we'd include it more often, since it's widely practiced in the real world. There's a fascinating wikipedia article if you feel like reading more. Based on my extensive research, YMCAs in New York have both saunas and hostel guest rooms. That's why it's fun to stay at the Y ;)


End file.
